glass [and] razorblades

 glass

~

even the routinely-poor are afforded 
some small mercies and graces -- 
earlier, today, for instance 
a discreet 3-panel 
animation of a woman 
smoking in close-up 
of narrowing proximity 
rolled into my periphery of 
a sudden at the weedstore 

and, tonight, outside the church 
where my eyes close to some rest: 
the fierce stone of the architecture 
spraying indismissibly into 
the moment... 

...when counselors, 
nurses, 
clerks, interviewers, 
doctors, various staff 
ask me why I consume 
alcohol to the degree I do, 
this is what I can't remember 
or manage 
to tell them, this 
perpetual, permanent 
withering, something abundant yet 
feeble in its abundance, the glass 
before something else 
that always 
was. 




**** 

razorblades 

~

stuff this into your brain: 
there's this overflowing pile 
of billions and more razorblades 
each either signed with 
wisdom to nourish your soul
or insouciant, obvious 
insults to your character, 
except for you've been provided 
such special, magic gloves 
to sift among the pieces -- maybe 

that's the right thing to 
say to people when they 
ask, how are you? good morning, 
do you care about anything? 

I'd like to hear a good story 
about razorblades and 
their manufacture, or 
any good story at all. 




**** 












 

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